Nico Di Angelo: Angel of Death
by catalystkrish
Summary: A collection of short fics about our one and only Ghost King
1. Nighttime Confessions

Hazel Levesque stumbled onto the deck of the Argo II, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was a cold night, the chilly sea air whipping around her like a large snake. The wind cleared away her seasickness and left her clean, refreshed. Below the Argo the ocean waters swirled, reflecting the pale moonlight back to the pitch-black sky.

She sighed, and wrapped her numb fingertips around the frosty railing. The wind caught at her chocolate curls and tossed them about. Shivering, she turned around to go back inside and stifled a gasp.

There he was, dressed in all black as always, sitting on an overhang facing the water. His aviators jacket was currently serving as a seat, baring his ghostly white arms to the cold. Nico di Angelo sat there, oblivious to the rest of the world, just staring out at the ocean.

Hazel quickly crossed the deck and ascended the rickety ladder to the overhang he was seated on. Silently, she took a seat next to him, and they stared out at the black waters together. Finally he spoke.

"It's cold."

"I know," she said. "But you don't seem to care."

He was silent. The wind ruffled his dark hair, tossing it about into a mess. Just before the quiet became unbearable, he turned to her.

"Why'd you come out?" Nico asked, fixing his obsidian-black eyes on her gold ones.

Hazel sighed and shivered. "Couldn't go to sleep. And I was seasick."

"Ah," he said, understanding immediately. "Same. We're children of Hades and Pluto, sailing across the domain of Poseidon. Or Neptune. Or-whatever."

Hazel laughed. "So, why'd _you_ come out?"

Nico blinked at her. "I told you. I was seasick."

"Don't insult my intelligence," she said, frowning at him. "Something's wrong, So spill."

He was quiet. The night filled up the silence with the sound of small waves breaking against the side of Argo II. Festus, the enormous bronze dragon head, creaked softly in his sleep.

"I feel...apart," Nico admitted finally. "Like, after the Titan War, people sort of accepted me more. But I guess that was mostly Percy's fault. Now, well..." he trailed off with a deep sigh. Hazel counted a seven-second silence before he spoke again.

"I feel like that being a son of Hades is catching up to me. It's like the only way for me to gain respect is through fear, and that isn't even real respect. If I lose hold, if I weaken, if I stop holding my own and being frightening, I don't know how long people will take me seriously.

"I don't think I belong here, Hazel. I don't think I belong anywhere."

The words came from Hazel's mouth automatically. "Of course you do! You belong with us."

He turned his head slightly to look at her, and she was caught up in his fierce gaze. His eyes were obsidian black, like chips of the nighttime sky deep-set into his ivory skin. His black hair was windswept and accented his sharp features. "Do you really believe that, Hazel?" he asked her softly.

Hazel opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to say yes, she did believe that Nico belonged to the team. But something inside her knew that Nico would always be apart from the major demigods. He did belong somewhere, but not here.

"That's what I thought," Nico said with a sigh. "Hazel, I think you should go back inside."

"What? No! I-"

He cut her off with a firm glance. "Here," he said, pressing a bottle into her hands. "Take one whenever you feel queasy. It's solidified Styx water: it'll help your seasickness."

"Nico-"

"Go, Hazel."

Hazel nodded reluctantly and took the bottle. Then, shivering, she made her way to the stairwell that led down to the cabins. Before descending, she turned to look at Nico one more time. He sat on the overhang, staring into the murky waters, and she thought to herself that he had never looked more alone.


	2. The Road to Hell

It was that time of day, the time when the last rays of sunlight are swallowed up by the evening shadows, the time when the demons in hiding come out to play. It was no place for a Golden Boy, the son of the most powerful Greek god in all the world.

And yet Jason Grace, son of Zeus, found himself trotting up the stairs and onto the top deck of the Argo II.

And, even more surprisingly, he wasn't alone.

"Hey, Nico," greeted Jason warily. He'd always been a little afraid of the out-of-control, unpredictable son of Hades. Now, with Diocletian's scepter, Nico was scarier than ever.

Nico di Angelo turned to face Jason. He was a little off-putting, physically anyways. He had a hard mouth, pale skin, and obsidian black eyes. His hair was decently long and windswept, and his thin, bare arms were taut with muscle. As usual, he was silent, acknowledging Jason with a simple nod.

"So..." Jason searched for something to talk about. He never knew what to say when he was alone with Nico. Damn, the kid was scary. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Didn't try." Nico's voice was quiet, low, dangerous. He had the air of someone who'd had to grow up too quickly. Jason remembered what Percy had told him. _Before Bianca's death, Nico was a little kid. When she died, something inside him broke. It was like he aged fifty years. It was like he lost his soul._

"Oh." There was nothing more to say on the subject. Nico's short answer had made sure of that. "Aren't you cold?"

Nico turned to look at him, his dark eyes flashing with deep dislike. "No." The answer was cold, short, practically dripping with loathing. The tone sent cold shivers down Jason's back. It was rare that anyone scared him, but Nico seemed to hold an unseen advantage over him.

"Gods, Nico, why do you hate me so much?"

The tense, cold politeness between them broke. "Oh, I don't know," snarled Nico sarcastically. "Maybe because you're so perfect, so mature, so trusted? Maybe because the only reason that Percy and I are shunned is because you're there?"

Jason was stunned. It was like Nico's words had stolen the breath right from his lungs. "You and Percy aren't-"

"Oh? I suppose _you_ wouldn't know." Nico kicked the railing angrily. "He may not hate you as much as me, but there's definitely resentment. We were born to carry on our fathers' struggle for power. I hate you because you belong, Jason. I hate you because you're everyone's Golden Boy, everyone's favorite. I had to teach myself how to kill monsters, how to fight with a sword, how to shadow-travel, how to protect myself from my own _father!_

"You're loved. You're accepted. Me, I have no chance. I symbolize death and destruction. I'm everything that's wrong with this world. The only reason I'm still here is because there are people here that I can't lose. Not again."

Jason said nothing. What was there to say, anyway? If he denied it, Nico would blow up in his face. If he accepted it, he would look vain. Best to keep silent. And yet...

"You _are_ accepted, Nico," he said tentatively.

Worst idea ever.

Nico slammed the base of Diocletian's scepter into the deck, and the entire ship shuddered. Black tendrils twisted their way across the deck towards Jason, who stumbled backwards. The tendrils pressed him back until he was against a wooden pole, and they twisted upwards, wrapping around him and securing him in place.

"That's it," snarled Nico. "I'm done with all your crap. Rest assured, you won't see me again." With that, he turned away, stepping into the shadows and disappearing.

Jason gaped, searching the deck frantically with his blue eyes for some sign that Nico had been kidding. But it was useless.

The Ghost King was gone.


End file.
